The autumn leaves are falling like rain. Although my neighbors are all barbarians and you, you are a thousand miles away, there are always two cups at my table.

T’ang Dynasty poem

Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn't clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life.

~ Wu-men ~

Friday, April 21, 2017

The 300 Tang Dynasty Poems, #63: A Song of an Old Cypress

The Tang Dynasty was a high point of culture in ancient China. Especially esteemed were poems. There was no home coming or leave taking; no event too small to not be commemorated with a poem.

Some of the best poems of that period have been collected into an anthology known as The 300 Tang Dynasty Poems. A online version of the anthology may be found here.Today we have #63: A Song of an Old Cypress.

A SONG OF AN OLD CYPRESS

Beside the Temple of the Great Premier stands an ancient cypressWith a trunk of green bronze and a root of stone.The girth of its white bark would be the reach of forty menAnd its tip of kingfish-blue is two thousand feet in heaven.Dating from the days of a great ruler's great statesman,Their very tree is loved now and honoured by the people.Clouds come to it from far away, from the Wu cliffs,And the cold moon glistens on its peak of snow....East of the Silk Pavilion yesterday I foundThe ancient ruler and wise statesman both worshipped in one temple,Whose tree, with curious branches, ages the whole landscapeIn spite of the fresh colours of the windows and the doors.And so firm is the deep root, so established underground,That its lone lofty boughs can dare the weight of winds,Its only protection the Heavenly Power,Its only endurance the art of its Creator.Though oxen sway ten thousand heads, they cannot move a mountain....When beams are required to restore a great house,Though a tree writes no memorial, yet people understandThat not unless they fell it can use be made of it....Its bitter heart may be tenanted now by black and white ants,But its odorous leaves were once the nest of phoenixes and pheasants....Let wise and hopeful men harbour no complaint.The greater the timber, the tougher it is to use.